


Indian Cuisine for Beginners

by Skaboom



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skaboom/pseuds/Skaboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle Parrish is an avid cook, and when he runs into Stiles at the library, an awkward conversation leads to dinner plans; dinner plans that Stiles has no idea how to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indian Cuisine for Beginners

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off an anonymous prompt received on tumblr!

Kyle Parrish stopped buying cookbooks after his first week in Beacon Hills, because he’s new here, and he’s got a new job, and he hasn’t saved up a lot of money yet, so his apartment is small. If he bought all of the cookbooks that he wanted to try, he wouldn’t have space for anything else. As a result, he has worked into his schedule to go to the Beacon Hill’s library during his shift break on Thursday, which happens to be at 4:00 PM.

On Thursdays, there isn’t cross country or lacrosse practice after school, which means that Thursdays after school is a great time for Stiles to go to the library and get the books he needs to do whatever research is needed for whatever god awful thing they have to deal with next. After all, even with the nogitsune thing figured out, and expelled from his body, the beacon is still a beacon, and right now, he’s pretty sure that they have skin walkers in town.

The last time that Stiles ran into the Kyle at the library, it was easy to explain away the need for tons of books on Kitsune, werefox type things, as a school paper, and Kyle was able to explain away the Italian cookbook as an experiment.

This time, it’s not quite as easy. Stiles is trying to get out of the library with an armful of books about skin walkers, shapeshifters, and pretty much any other thing that they could be working with when he runs directly into Kyle. His books fall to the ground, and Kyle, being the gentleman that he is, instantly falls to a squat to help Stiles pick up the books. In doing so, he sets his Indian Cuisine for Beginners book down beside him.

“Another cooking experiment?” Stiles asks, hoping that he can direct the conversation towards Parrish and his habits and hobbies until he can get out of there with his books.

“Yes.” Kyle blushes slightly. “Another school project?”

“Umm hmm. Yup.” Stiles nods.

“They give you a lot of mythology stuff, that’s odd. I don’t remember that much in school.” Kyle hands over the last couple of books.

“Oh, yeah, well, they-” Stiles is caught completely off guard as he looks up to take the books from Kyle, and accidentally makes eye contact with him, and…have his eyes always been that shade of light, perfect, green? Jesus.

“They…” Kyle tilted his head to the side.

“I like Tandoori Chicken,” Stiles blurted out. “And Aloo Gobi, those are the best. Saag Paneer is weird. It’s an odd color, and it’s mushy, and I just don’t get it, and curry is fine, too, but I prefer the other stuff, naan bread is pretty badass, too, and that yogurt stuff that makes everything less bitingly spicy is absolutely necessary, and lentils are-”

“Stiles, what?” Kyle cuts Stiles off, laughing as he does so. “What are you talking about.”

“Um, I…Indian food.” He half gestures/half flails at the cookbook sitting beside the still-crouched deputy.

“Oh.” It’s Kyle’s turn to blush a little, and he nods. “I haven’t tried Indian before, but I uh…I love cooking, and I wanted to give it a shot.”

“Oh, well, if you like…need a guinea pig or something…” The words have left Stiles’ mouth before he even has a chance to think then through, and Parrish’s green eyes widen in surprise.

“You want to come have dinner with me?” Kyle asks.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Stiles says, trying his best to save face at least a little bit, since his foot is currently so far down his mouth he’s not sure how he can still breathe.

“Okay.” Kyle nods. “Tomorrow night. Eight PM.” He pulled out his wallet and scribbled an address and apartment number on the back of an old receipt.

“Oh, okay.” Stiles pockets the receipt. “Should I bring something?”

“Dessert.” Kyle winks, and without another word, stands up, and takes his book to the counter to check it out, leaving Stiles dumfounded, and very, very confused.

 

For the next 27.5 hours, Stiles is freaking out. He has been playing the interaction over and over in his head, trying to figure out what exactly is going on. He knows that Kyle Parrish is new to town, so maybe he’s just lonely, but then that wink…when he asked Stiles to bring dessert? What the fuck did that mean? And those eyes. Those god damned eyes…they have Stiles all up in arms and confused, and he’s not sure how to handle the evening.

As soon as school is over, he rushes to the bakery for a fruit tart, because he knows that Kyle likes healthy things, then home to shower, where he tries on about 18 different t-shirt/plaid/jacket combinations with every pair of pants he owns before he finally settles on something, but only because it’s pretty much time to go.

He takes a deep breath, looking in the mirror, assessing the situation. He’s dressed, he has his wallet and his keys, he’s ready to go, except…that wink. What if he didn’t mean like…fruit tart dessert, what if he meant like…sexy dessert? In a moment of sheer panic, Stiles opens up his desk drawer, essentially tearing the thing apart until he finds the two condoms he got from a sex-ed fair at school last year. He pockets them both and instantly heads out the door, not wanting to be late.

At pretty much eight on the dot, he knocks on the door of Kyle’s apartment, and spends the next 14 seconds trying to pose in the most natural way, until the door opens…just as he’s shifting the box the fruit tart is in from the right hand to the left.

“I brought dessert,” he says instantly, holding out the box.

“Thanks.” Kyle smiles, taking the box, and opening the door wider for Stiles to enter.

Stiles walks into the room, focusing so much on not tripping over the door jamb that it takes until he’s inside, sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water while Kyle puts the finishing touches on dinner for him to realize he’s never actually seen the deputy out of uniform. Sure, he looks damn, _damn_ good in the uniform, but there’s only so much a generic outfit can do for someone, and it’s now painfully clear to Stiles that Kyle knows how to dress in a way that Stiles will never be able to master.

The way his jeans fit perfectly keeps Stiles’ eyes pretty much glued to his ass while he’s turned around, stirring some sort of sauce situation. It smells great in the kitchen – spicy, and delicious, and his mouth is watering for more than one reason as Kyle turns around, showing the simple t-shirt he’s wearing clinging to his lean, but obviously pretty toned, body in all the right fucking places. God, did he just fall out of the shower and into clothes like that, or did he, like Stiles, spend 3 hours in front of the mirror trying to figure out how best not to look like an idiot?

If he did, he’s a lot better at it than Stiles, the teen thinks, as Kyle comes to the table with two plates of food.

“Okay, so I can’t guarantee that this is gonna be anything shy of awful,” he says with a grin. “I’ve never made Indian before, but I’m pretty good at following recipes, so…”

“I’m sure it’s awesome, it smells awesome, it looks awesome, if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it’s probably a duck – that’s such a weird saying. Why don’t they say if it quacks like a duck?”

“I…don’t know.” Kyle laughs as he sits down across from Stiles, tilting his head to the side. “Do you always ramble like that?”

“Only…only when I’m nervous,” Stiles admits.

“So…I make you nervous?” Kyle looks over at Stiles, and their eyes meet, and Stiles isn’t sure, but he thinks, just for a second, that Kyle _wants_ the answer to that question to be yes…which is a combination of, in Stiles’ mind, sadistic and sexy.

“Yeah, I mean, a little…” Might as well tell the truth, right?

“Alright.” Kyle nods. He doesn’t question the why, and Stiles narrows his eyes, feeling as though he isn’t questioning Stiles because he already knows the answer. He is a deputy, after all, has to have some sort of observation skills. Maybe he knows that Stiles has a crush. Maybe he’s seen the quick turning away to hide that he’s been looking at Parrish just a little bit too long when he takes the sheriff lunch on Saturday’s, and suddenly, Stiles wonders what the hell he’s doing here. He’s so far out of his league right now. Hell, he has condoms in his pocket that he got at a safe sex school event, and this guy? He’s gotta be fucking dynamite in the sack, or at least super experienced.

He could have anyone.

Why would he want Stiles?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kyle asks, and it’s then that Stiles realizes it’s been awhile since he said anything at all, and he knows that, well, everyone knows that for him, that’s far from normal.

He racks his brain, trying to think of something, anything to say. He wants something smart, casual, funny, classy; something that will tell this older man that Stiles is mature, and ready for someone that is, well, far more experienced than him in every way.

Except maybe with the supernatural, but for some reason, he thinks that’s a bad talking point.

“I brought condoms,” he blurts out, eyes widening instantly as he realizes that, of all the things volleying around in his brain right now, _that_ is the one that decided to come out. He turns bright red, and every part of him is saying to get up and run. Well, every part of him except his legs, which won’t move, won’t let him get up.

“Good.” Kyle’s smile is accompanied by a nod, and he turns back to his food, seemingly un-phased by the admission, and Stiles’ mouth just drops open.

“Wh-what? Good? I…you…condoms…fruit tart…” Okay, now he was just saying random words, and he was pretty sure that wasn’t having the desired effect.

“Stiles,” Kyle looks up at him over the food. “Take a deep breath, eat your dinner, talk to me about school, or lacrosse, or whatever you want. We’ll cross the next bridge when we get there, okay?”

“Oh…okay.” Stiles nods, and the conversation devolves into the mundane – school work (Stiles’ paper on The Great Gatsby due next week), Kyle’s work at the station (paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork – he is the new guy, after all), where Kyle is from (Duluth, Minnesota), why he was discharged from the army (honorably, after a piece of shrapnel lodged in his left thigh made it hard for him to do his job),  and when the meal is over, Kyle clears both plates without being asked.

“This looks great, Stiles,” Kyle states, opening up the fruit tart box and serving them each a slice.

Instead of bringing the plates to the table, he carries them both to the living room, beckoning with a jerk of his head for Stiles to follow him. Stiles does so, and winds up sitting on the couch, angled more towards the center, so he and Kyle can look at each other as they continue talking.

“…so Scott like spent the whole summer getting in shape, and made first line, and so basically now he’s a lacrosse god, and I’m pretty much just trying to ride his coattails through high school, because he’s a great friend and totally lets me, he doesn’t forget the little people, he’s awesome like that, and I think I’ll really hit my stride in college, you know? I think guys like me do better in college anyways, you know, especially if I can go to a school that doesn’t have a lot of athletic prowess, and being smart is actually the top dog situation, because yeah, I’m a spaz, but I do have a brain, and it works, most of the time…sometimes it just tells the guy I like that I have condoms in my pocket _way_ before I was ready for him to know that, and-”

“Stiles,” Kyle reaches out, taking the plate from his hand, setting both Stiles’ plate, and his own down on the coffee table. “Relax.” He reaches out, puts his hand on Stiles’ cheek, and pulls him in for a kiss.

His lips are every bit as Stiles had imagined they would be. They’re soft, and gentle, and he scoots closer to make the kiss less weird, though he’s not really sure what to do with his hands, or his legs, or his shoes, for that matter, because putting them on Kyle’s nice clean couch doesn’t seem like an option.

“W-wow,” Stiles gulps as they pull away, his eyes wide, speechless for the first time in, well, probably ever.

“I think,” Kyle says with a smile, reaching out, and putting his hand comfortingly on Stiles’ knee. “That we’re going to need those condoms.”


End file.
